could not help laughing aloud at the miserable coward who represented a
kingdom. Calling my headman, I ordered him to hoist the English ensign
on my tall flagstaff in the courtyard. In a few moments the old flag was
waving in a brisk breeze and floating over my little hut. There is
something that warms the heart in the sight of the Union Jack when
thousands of miles away from the old country. I now explained to Kamrasi
that both he and his country were under the protection of that flag,
which was the emblem of England; and that so long as he trusted to me,
although I had refused to join him in attacking Fowooka, he should see
that I was his true ally, as I would defend him against all attacks. I
told him to send a large quantity of supplies into my camp, and to
procure guides immediately, as I should send some of my men without
delay to the enemy's camp with a message to the vakeel of Debono's
party. Slightly reassured by this arrangement, he called Quonga, and
ordered him to procure two of his chiefs to accompany my men. The best
of his men, Cassave, appeared immediately;--this was a famous fellow,
who had always been civil and anxious to do his duty both to his master
and to me. I summoned Eddrees, and ordered him to send four of his men
with an equal number of mine to the camp of Fowooka to make a report of
the invading force, and to see whether it was true that Debono's people
were arrived as invaders. In half an hour from the receipt of my order,
the party started;--eight well-armed men accompanied by about twenty
natives of Kamrasi's with two days' provisions. Kisoona was about ten
miles from the Victoria Nile.
At about 5 P.M. on the following day my men returned, accompanied by ten
men and a choush, or sergeant, of Debono's party;--they had determined
to prove whether I was actually in the country, as they had received a
report some months ago that both my wife and I were dead; they imagined
that the men that I had sent to their camp were those of the rival party
belonging to Ibrahim, who had wished to drive them out of Kamrasi's
country by using my name. However, they were now undeceived, as the
first object that met their view was the English flag on the high
flagstaff, and they were shortly led into my courtyard, where they were
introduced to me in person. They sat in a half-circle around me.
Assuming great authority, I asked them how they could presume to attack
a country under the protection of the British flag? I informed them that
Unyoro belonged to me by right of discovery, and that I had given
Ibrahim the exclusive right to the produce of that country, on the
condition that he should do nothing contrary to the will of the reigning
king, Kamrasi; that Ibrahim had behaved well; that I had been guided to
the lake and had returned, and that we were now actually fed by the
king; and we were suddenly invaded by Turkish subjects in connexion with
a hostile tribe, who thus insulted the English flag. I explained to them
that I should not only resist any attack that might be made upon
Kamrasi, but that I should report the whole affair to the Turkish
authorities upon my return to Khartoum; and that, should a shot be fired
or a slave be stolen in Kamrasi's country, the leader of their party,
Mahommed Wat-el-Mek, would be hanged.
They replied that they were not aware that I was in the country; that
they were allies of Fowooka, Rionga, and Owine, the three hostile
chiefs; that they had received both ivory and slaves from them on
condition that they should kill Kamrasi; and that, according to the
custom of the White Nile trade, they had agreed to these conditions.
They complained that it was very hard upon them to march six days
through an uninhabited wilderness between their station at Faloro and
Fowooka's islands and to return empty handed. In reply I told them, that
they should carry a letter from me to their vakeel Mahommed, in which I
should give him twelve hours from the receipt of my order to recross the
river with his entire party and their allies and quit Kamrasi's country.
They demurred to this alternative: but I shortly settled their
objections, by ordering my vakeel to write the necessary letter, and
desiring them to start before sunrise on the following morning. Kamrasi
had been suspicious that I had sent for Mahommed's party to invade him
because he had kept me starving at Shooa Moru instead of forwarding me
to Shooa as he had promised. This suspicion placed me in an awkward
position; I therefore called M'Gambi (his brother) in presence of the
Turks, and explained the whole affair face to face, desiring Mahommed's
people themselves to explain to him that they would retire from the
country simply because I commanded them to do so, but that, had I not
been there, they would have attacked him. This they repeated with a very
bad grace, boasting, at the completion, that, were it not for me, they
would shoot M'Gambi where he stood at that moment. The latter, fully
aware of their good intentions, suddenly disappeared. . . . My letter to
Mahommed was delivered to Suleiman Choush, the leader of his party, and
I ordered a sheep to be killed for their supper. . . . At sunrise on the
following morning they all departed, accompanied by six of my men, who
were to bring a reply to my letter. These people had two donkeys, and
just as they were starting, a crowd of natives made a rush to gather a
heap of dung that lay beneath the animals; a great fight and tussle took
place for the possession of this valuable medicine, in the midst of
which the donkey lifted up his voice and brayed so lustily that the
crowd rushed away with more eagerness than they had exhibited on
arriving, alarmed at the savage voice of the unknown animal. It appeared
that the dung of the donkey rubbed upon the skin was supposed to be a
cure for rheumatism, and that this rare specific was brought from a
distant country in the East where such animals existed.
CHAPTER XV.
KAMRASI BEGS FOR THE BRITISH FLAG.
Kamrasi, thus freed from his invaders, was almost stupefied with
astonishment. He immediately paid me a visit, and as he entered the
courtyard he stopped to look at the flag that was gaily fluttering above
him, as though it were a talisman. He inquired "why the Turks were awed
by an apparent trifle." I explained that the flag was well known, and
might be seen in every part of the world; wherever it was hoisted it was
respected, as he had just witnessed, even at so great a distance from
home and unsupported, as in Unyoro.
Seizing the opportunity, he demanded it, saying, "What shall I do when
you leave my country and take that with you? These Turks will surely
return. Give me the flag, and they will be afraid to attack me!" I was
obliged to explain to him that "the respect for the British ensign had
not been gained by running away on the approach of danger, as he had
proposed on the arrival of the enemy, and that its honour could not be
confided to any stranger." True to his uncontrollable instinct of
begging, he replied, "If you cannot give me the flag, give me at least
that little double-barrelled rifle that you do not require, as you are
going home; then I can defend myself should the Turks attack me."
I was excessively disgusted; he had just been saved by my intervention,
and his manner of thanking me was by begging most pertinaciously for the
rifle that I had refused him on more than twenty occasions. I requested
him never to mention the subject again, as I would not part with it
under any circumstances. Just at this moment I heard an uproar outside
my gate, and loud screams, attended with heavy blows. A man was dragged
past the entrance of the courtyard bound hand and foot, and was
immediately cudgelled to death by a crowd of natives. This operation
continued for some minutes, until his bones had been thoroughly broken
up by the repeated blows of clubs. The body was dragged to a grove of
plantains, and was there left for the vultures, who in a few minutes
congregated around it.
It appeared that the offence thus summarily punished was the simple act
of conversing with some of the natives who had attended Mahommed's men
from Fowooka's island to Kisoona: a conversation with one of the enemy
was considered high treason, and was punished with immediate death. In
such cases, where either Kamrasi or his brother M'Gambi determined upon
the sudden execution of a criminal, the signal was given by touching the
condemned with the point of a lance: this sign was the order that was
immediately obeyed by the guards who were in attendance, and the culprit
was beaten to death upon the spot. Sometimes the condemned was touched
by a stick instead of a lance-point; this was a signal that he should be
killed by the lance, and the sentence was carried out by thrusting him
through the body with numerous spears--thus the instrument used to slay
the criminal was always contrary to the sign.
On the day following this event, drums were beating, horns blowing, and
crowds of natives were singing and dancing in all directions; pots of
plantain cider were distributed, and general festivities proclaimed the
joy of the people at the news that Mahommed's party had retreated across
the river, according to their agreement with me. My men had returned
with a letter from Mahommed, stating that he was neither afraid of
Ibrahim's people nor of Kamrasi, but that as I claimed the country, he
must retire. Not only had he retired with his thwarted allies, but,
disgusted at the failure of his expedition, he had quarrelled with
Fowooka, and had plundered him of all his cattle, together with a number
of slaves: this termination of the affair had so delighted Kamrasi that
he had ordered general rejoicings: he killed a number of oxen, and
distributed them among his people, and intoxicated half the country with
presents of maroua, or the plantain cider.
Altogether Mahommed, the vakeel of Debono, had behaved well to me in
this affair, although rather shabbily to his allies: he sent me six
pieces of soap, and a few strings of blue beads and jenettos (red glass
beads) as a proof that he parted with no ill feeling. Hardly were the
Turks in retreat when Kamrasi determined to give the finishing stroke to
his enemies. He sent great quantities of ivory to the camp, and one
evening his people laid about twenty tusks at my door, begging me to
count them. I told him to give the ivory to Ibrahim's men, as I required
nothing; but that should Ibrahim find a large quantity ready for him on
his return to the country, he would do anything that he might desire.
A few days later, whole lines of porters arrived, carrying enormous
elephants' tusks to Eddrees, the vakeel. Early the next morning,
Kamrasi's entire army arrived laden with provisions, each man carrying
about 40 lbs. of flour in a package upon his head. The Turks' party of
ten men joined them, and I heard that an attack was meditated upon
Fowooka.
A few days after the expedition had started, the Turks and about 1,000
natives returned. Kamrasi was overjoyed; they had gained a complete
victory, having entirely routed Fowooka, and not only captured the
islands and massacred the greater number of the inhabitants, but they
had captured all the wives of the rebel chiefs, together with a number
of inferior slaves, and a herd of goats that had fortunately escaped the
search of Mahommed's retreating party. Fowooka and Owine had escaped by
crossing to the northern shore, but their power was irretrievably
ruined, their villages plundered and burned, and their women and
children captured.
A number of old women had been taken in the general razzia; these could
not walk sufficiently fast to keep up with their victors during the
return march, they had accordingly all been killed on the road as being
cumbersome: in every case they were killed by being beaten on the back
of the neck with a club. Such were the brutalities indulged in.
On the following morning I went to visit the captives; the women were
sitting in an open shed, apparently much dejected. I examined the hands
of about fourteen, all of which were well shaped and beautifully soft,
proving that they were women of high degree who never worked
laboriously: they were for the most part remarkably good looking, of
soft and pleasing expression, dark brown complexion, fine noses, woolly
hair, and good figures, precisely similar to the general style of women
in Chopi and Unyoro.
Among the captives was a woman with a most beautiful child, a boy about
twelve months old; all these were slaves, and the greater number were in
a most pitiable state, being perfectly unfit for labour, having been
accustomed to luxury as the women of chiefs of high position. Curiously
enough, the woman Bacheeta, who had accompanied us to visit these
unfortunate captives, now recognised her former mistress, who was the
wife of the murdered Sali; she had been captured with the wives and
daughters of Rionga. Bacheeta immediately fell on her knees and crept
towards her on all fours, precisely as the subjects of Kamrasi were
accustomed to approach his throne. Sali had held as high a position as
Fowooka, and had been treacherously killed by Kamrasi at M'rooli in the
presence of Bacheeta. At that time peace had been established between
Kamrasi and the three great chiefs, who were invited to a conference at
M'rooli with a treacherous design on the part of the king. Hardly had
they arrived, when Rionga was seized by Kamrasi's orders, and confined
in a circular but with high mud walls and no doorway; the prisoner was
hoisted up and lowered down through an aperture in the roof. He was
condemned to be burnt alive on the following morning for some imaginary
offence, while Sali and Fowooka were to be either pardoned or murdered,
as circumstances might dictate. Sali was a great friend of Rionga, and
determined to rescue him; accordingly he plied the guards with drink,
and engaged them in singing throughout the night on one side of the
prison, while his men burrowed like rabbits beneath the wall on the
opposite side, and rescued Rionga, who escaped.
Sali showed extreme folly in remaining at M'rooli, and Kamrasi,
suspicious of his complicity, immediately ordered him to be seized and
cut to pieces: he was accordingly tied to a stake, and tortured by
having his limbs cut off piecemeal--the hands being first severed at
the wrists, and the arms at the elbow joints. Bacheeta was an eyewitness
of this horrible act, and testified to the courage of Sali, who, while
under the torture, cried out to his friends in the crowd, warning them
to fly and save themselves, as he was a dead man, and they would share
his fate should they remain. Some escaped, including Fowooka, but many
were massacred on the spot, and the woman Bacheeta was captured by
Kamrasi and subsequently sent by him to the Turks' camp at Faloro, as
already described. From that day unremitting warfare was carried on
between Kamrasi and the island chiefs; the climax was their defeat, and
the capture of their women, through the assistance of the Turks.
Kamrasi's delight at the victory knew no bounds; ivory poured into the
camp, and a hut was actually filled with elephants' tusks of the largest
size. Eddrees, the leader of the Turks' party, knowing that the victory
was gained by the aid of his guns, refused to give up the captives on
the demand of the king, claiming them as prisoners belonging to Ibrahim,
and declining any arguments upon the matter until his master should
arrive in the country. Kamrasi urged that, although the guns had been of
great service, no prisoners could have been captured without the aid of
his canoes, that had been brought by land, dragged all the way from
Karuma by hundreds of his people in readiness for the attack upon the
islands.
As usual in all cases of dispute, I was to be referee. Kamrasi sent his
factotum Cassave in the night to my hut to confer with me without the
Turks' knowledge; then came his brother, M'Gambi, and at length, after
being pestered daily by messengers, the great king arrived in person. He
said that Eddrees was excessively insolent, and had threatened to shoot
him; that he had insulted him when on his throne surrounded by his
chiefs, and that, had he not been introduced into the country by me, he
would have killed him and his men on the spot.
I advised Kamrasi not to talk too big, as he had lately seen what only
ten guns had effected in the fight with Fowooka, and he might imagine
the results that would occur should he even hint at hostility, as the
large parties of Ibrahim and the men of Mahommed Wat-el-Mek would
immediately unite and destroy both him and his country, and place his
now beaten enemy Fowooka upon HIS throne should a hair of a Turk's head
be missing. The gallant Kamrasi turned almost green at the bare
suggestion of this possibility. I advised him not to quarrel about
straws, assuring him, that as I had become responsible for the behaviour
of the Turks while in his country, he need have no fear; but that, on
the other hand, he must be both just and generous. If he would give them
a supply of ivory, he might always reckon upon them as valuable allies;
but if he attempted to quarrel, they would assuredly destroy his country
after my departure. Of course he requested me never to think of leaving
him, but to take up my abode for life in Kitwara, promising me all that
I should require in addition to a large territory. I replied that the
climate did not agree with me, and that nothing would induce me to
remain, but that, as the boats would not arrive at Gondokoro for six
months (until February), I might as well reside with him as anywhere
else. At the same time, I assured him that his professed friendship for
me was a delusion, as he only regarded me as a shield between him and
danger. After a long conversation, I succeeded in persuading him not to
interfere in matters regarding prisoners of war, and to look upon
Eddrees only as a vakeel until Ibrahim should arrive. He left my hut
promising not to mention the affair again; but the next, day he sent
Cassave to Eddrees, demanding two of the prettiest women who were
captives. In reply, Eddrees, who was an extremely hotheaded fellow, went
straight to Kamrasi, and spoke to him in a most insulting manner,
refusing his request. The king immediately rose from his seat and turned
his back upon the offender. Off rushed Eddrees, boiling with passion, to
his camp, summoned his men well armed, and marched straight towards the
residence of Kamrasi to demand satisfaction for the affront.
Fortunately, my vakeel brought me the intelligence, and I sent after
him, ordering his immediate return, and declaring that no one should
break the peace so long as I was in the country. In about ten minutes,
both he and his men slunk back ashamed, mutually accusing each other, as
is usual in cases of failure. This was an instance of the madness of
these Turks in assuming the offensive, when, in the event of a fight,
defeat must have been certain. They were positively without ammunition!
having fired away all their cartridges except about five rounds for each
man in the attack upon Fowooka. Fortunately, this was unknown to
Kamrasi. I had a large supply, as my men were never permitted to fire a
shot without my special permission.
The party of Turks were now completely in my power. I sent for Eddrees,
and also for the king: the latter had already heard from the natives of
the approach of the armed Turks, and of my interference. He refused to
appear in person, but sent his brother M'Gambi, who was, as usual, the
cat's-paw. M'Gambi was highly offended, and declared that Kamrasi had
forbidden Eddrees ever to appear again in his presence. I insisted upon
Eddrees apologizing, and it was resolved that all future negotiations
should be carried on through me alone.
I suggested that it would be advisable for all parties that a message
should be sent without delay to Ibrahim at Shooa, as it was highly
necessary that he should be present, as I should not continue
responsible for the conduct of the Turks. When I arrived in Unyoro it
was with the intention of visiting the lake, and returning immediately.
I had been delayed entirely through Kamrasi's orders, and I could not be
held responsible for Eddrees;--my agreement had been to guarantee the
conduct of the Turks under Ibrahim, who was the commander of the party.
Eddrees, who, being without ammunition, was now excessively humble and
wished for reinforcements, offered to send five men to Shooa, provided
that Kamrasi would allow some natives to accompany them. This did not
suit the ideas of the suspicious M'Gambi, who suspected that he intended
to misrepresent Kamrasi's conduct to prejudice Ibrahim against him.
Accordingly, he declined his offer, but agreed to give porters and
guides, should I wish to send any of my men with a letter. This suited
my views exactly; I longed to quit Kamrasi's country, as Kisoona was a
prison of high grass and inaction, and could I only return to Shooa, I
could pass my time pleasantly in a fine open country and healthy
climate, with the advantage of being five days' march nearer home than
Unyoro. Accordingly, I instructed my vakeel to write a letter to
Ibrahim, calling him immediately to Kisoona, informing him that a large
quantity of ivory was collected, which, should Eddrees create a
disturbance, would be lost. On the following morning, four of my men
started for Shooa, accompanied by a number of natives.
Kisoona relapsed into its former monotony-the war with Fowooka being
over, the natives, free from care, passed their time in singing and
drinking; it was next to impossible to sleep at night, as crowds of
people all drunk were yelling in chorus, blowing horns and beating drums
from sunset until morning. The women took no part in this amusement, as
it was the custom in Unyoro for the men to enjoy themselves in laziness,
while the women performed all the labour of the fields. Thus they were
fatigued, and glad to rest, while the men passed the night in uproarious
merriment. The usual style of singing was a rapid chant delivered as a
solo, while at intervals the crowd burst out in a deafening chorus
together with the drums and horns; the latter were formed of immense
gourds which, growing in a peculiar shape, with long bottle necks, were
easily converted into musical (?) instruments. Every now and then a cry
of fire in the middle of the night enlivened the ennui of our existence;
the huts were littered deep with straw, and the inmates, intoxicated,
frequently fell asleep with their huge pipes alight, which, falling in
the dry straw, at once occasioned a conflagration. In such cases the
flames spread from hut to hut with immense rapidity, and frequently four
or five hundred huts in Kamrasi's large camp were destroyed by fire, and
rebuilt in a few days. I was anxious concerning my powder, as, in the
event of fire, the blaze of the straw hut was so instantaneous that
nothing could be saved: should my powder explode, I should be entirely
defenceless. Accordingly, after a conflagration in my neighbourhood, I
insisted upon removing all huts within a circuit of thirty yards of my
dwelling: the natives demurring, I at once ordered my men to pull down
the houses, and thereby relieved myself from drunken and dangerous
neighbours.
Although we had been regularly supplied with beef by the king, we now
found it most difficult to procure fowls; the war with Fowooka had
occasioned the destruction of nearly all the poultry in the
neighbourhood of Kisoona, as Kamrasi and his kojoors (magicians) were
occupied with daily sacrifices, deducing prognostications of coming
events from the appearances of the entrails of the birds slain. The king
was surrounded by sorcerers, both men and women; these people were
distinguished from others by witch-like chaplets of various dried roots
worn upon the head; some of them had dried lizards, crocodiles' teeth,
lions' claws, minute tortoise-shells, &c. added to their collection of
charms. They could have subscribed to the witches' cauldron of Macbeth:
"Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blindworm's sting,
Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble."
On the first appearance of these women, many of whom were old and
haggard, I felt inclined to repeat Banquo's question: "What are these,
so withered and so wild in their attire, that look not like the
inhabitants o' the earth, and yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught
that man may question?"
In such witches and wizards Kamrasi and his people believed implicitly.
Bacheeta, and also my men, told me that when my wife was expected to die
during the attack of coup de soleil, the guide had procured a witch, who
had killed a fowl to question it, "Whether she would recover and reach
the lake?" The fowl in its dying struggle protruded its tongue, which
sign is considered affirmative; after this reply the natives had no
doubt of the result. These people, although far superior to the tribes
on the north of the Nile in general intelligence, had no idea of a
Supreme Being, nor any object of worship, their faith resting upon a
simple belief in magic like that of the natives of Madi and Obbo.
Some weeks passed without a reply from Shooa to the letter I had
forwarded by my men, neither had any news been received of their
arrival; we had relapsed into the usual monotony of existence. This was
happily broken by a most important event.
On the 6th September, M'Gambi came to my hut in a state of great
excitement, with the intelligence that the M'was, the natives of Uganda,
had invaded Kamrasi's country with a large army; that they had already
crossed the Kafoor river and had captured M'rooli, and that they were
marching through the country direct to Kisoona, with the intention of
killing Kamrasi and of attacking us, and annexing the country of Unyoro
to M'tese's dominions. My force was reduced by four men that I had sent
to Shooa--thus we were a party of twenty guns, including the Turks,
who unfortunately had no ammunition.
There was no doubt about the truth of the intelligence; the natives
seemed in great consternation, as the M'was were far more powerful than
Kamrasi's people, and every invasion from that country had been attended
with the total rout of the Unyoro forces. I told M'Gambi that messengers
must be sent off at once to Shooa with a letter that I would write to
Ibrahim, summoning him immediately to Karuma with a force of 100 men; at
the same time I suggested that we should leave Kisoona and march with
Kamrasi's army direct to Karuma, there to establish a fortified camp to
command the passage of the river, and to secure a number of canoes to
provide a passage for Ibrahim's people whenever they could effect a
junction:--otherwise, the M'was might destroy the boats and cut off
the Turks on their arrival at the ferry. Kisoona was an exceedingly
disadvantageous situation, as it was a mere forest of trees and tangled
herbage ten or twelve feet high, in which the enemy could approach us
unperceived, secure from our guns. M'Gambi quite approved of my advice,
and hurried off to the king, who, as usual in cases of necessity, came
to me without delay. He was very excited, and said that messengers
arrived four or five times a day, bringing reports of every movement of
the enemy, who were advancing rapidly in three divisions, one by the
route direct from M'rooli to Karuma that I had followed on my arrival at
Atada, another direct to Kisoona, and a third between these two
parallels, so as to cut off his retreat to an island in the Nile, where
he had formerly taken refuge when his country was invaded by the same
people. I begged him not to think of retiring to the island, but to take
my advice and fight it out, in which case I should be happy to assist
him, as I was his guest, and I had a perfect right to repel any
aggression.
Accordingly I drew a plan of operations, showing how a camp could be
formed on the cliff above Karuma Falls, having two sides protected by
the river, while a kraal could be formed in the vicinity completely
commanded by our guns, where his cattle would remain in perfect
security. He listened with wandering eyes to all military arrangements,
and concluded by abandoning all idea of resistance, but resolutely
adhering to his plan of flight to the island that had protected him on a
former occasion.
We could only agree upon two points, the evacuation of Kisoona as
untenable, and the necessity of despatching a summons to Ibrahim
immediately. The latter decision was acted upon that instant, and
runners were despatched with a letter to Shooa. Kamrasi decided to wait
until the next morning for reports from expected messengers on the
movements of the enemy, otherwise he might run into the very jaws of the
danger he wished to avoid; and he promised to send porters to carry us
and our effects, should it be necessary to march to Karuma: with this
understanding, he departed. Bacheeta now assured me that the M'was were
so dreaded by the Unyoro people that nothing would induce them to fight;
therefore I must not depend upon Kamrasi in any way, but must make
independent arrangements: she informed me, that the invasion was caused
by accounts given to M'tese by Goobo Goolah, one of Speke's deserters,
who had run away from Kamrasi shortly after our arrival in the country,
and had reported to M'tese, the king of Uganda, that we were on our way
to pay him a visit with many valuable presents, but that Kamrasi had
prevented us from proceeding, in order to monopolise the merchandise.
Enraged at this act of his great enemy Kamrasi, he had sent spies to
corroborate the testimony of Goobo Goolah (these were the four men who
had appeared some weeks ago), which being confirmed, he had sent an army
to destroy both Kamrasi and his country, and to capture us and lead us
to his capital. This was the explanation of the affair given by
Bacheeta, who, with a woman's curiosity and tact, picked up information
in the camps almost as correctly as a Times correspondent.
This was very enjoyable--the monotony of our existence had been
unbearable, and here was an invigorating little difficulty with just
sufficient piquancy to excite our spirits. My men were so thoroughly
drilled and accustomed to complete obedience and dependence upon my
guidance, that they had quite changed their characters. I called
Eddrees, gave him ten rounds of ball cartridge for each of his men, and
told him to keep with my party should we be obliged to march: he
immediately called a number of natives and concealed all his ivory in
the jungle. At about 9 P.M. the camp was in an uproar; suddenly drums
beat in all quarters, in reply to nogaras that sounded the alarm in
Kamrasi's camp; horns bellowed; men and women yelled; huts were set on
fire; and in the blaze of light hundreds of natives, all armed and
dressed for war, rushed frantically about, as usual upon such occasions,
gesticulating, and engaging in mock fight with each other, as though
full of valour and boiling over with a desire to meet the enemy.
Bacheeta, who was a sworn enemy to Kamrasi, was delighted at his
approaching discomfiture. As some of the most desperate looking
warriors, dressed with horns upon their heads, rushed up to us
brandishing their spears, she shouted in derision, "Dance away, my boys!
Now's your time when the enemy is far away; but if you see a M'was as
big as the boy Saat, you will run as fast as your legs can carry you."
The M'was were reported to be so close to Kisoona that their nogaras had
been heard from Kamrasi's position, therefore we were to be ready to
march for Atada before daybreak on the following morning. There was
little sleep that night, as all the luggage had to be packed in
readiness for the early start. Cassave, who could always be depended
upon, arrived at my hut, and told me that messengers had reported that
the M'was had swept everything before them, having captured all the
women and cattle of the country and killed a great number of people;
that they had seen the light of burning villages from Kamrasi's camp,
and that it was doubtful whether the route was open to Atada. I
suggested that men should be sent on in advance, to report if the path
were occupied: this was immediately done.
Before daybreak on the following morning an immense volume of light with
dense clouds of smoke in the direction of Kamrasi's position showed that
his camp had been fired, according to custom, and that his retreat had
commenced;--thousands of grass huts were in flames, and I could not
help being annoyed at the folly of these natives at thus giving the
enemy notice of their retreat, by a signal that could be seen at many
miles' distance, when success depended upon rapid and secret movements.
Shortly after these signs of the march, crowds of women, men, cows,
goats, and luggage appeared, advancing in single file through a grove of
plantains and passing within twenty yards of us in an endless string. It
was pouring with rain, and women carrying their children were slipping
along the muddy path, while throngs of armed men and porters pushed
rudely by, until at last the gallant Kamrasi himself appeared with a
great number of women (his wives), several of whom were carried on
litters, being too fat to walk. He took no notice of me as he passed by.
M'Gambi was standing by me, and he explained that we were to close the
rear, Kamrasi having concluded that it was advisable to have the guns
between him and the enemy.
For upwards of an hour the crowd of thousands of people and cattle filed
past; at length the last straggler closed the line of march. But where
were our promised porters? Not a man was forthcoming, and we were now
the sole occupants of the deserted village, excepting M'Gambi and
Cassave. These men declared that the people were so frightened that no
one would remain to carry us and ours effects, but that they would go to
a neighbouring villa and bring porters to convey us to Foweera tomorrow,
as that was the spot where Kamrasi wished us to camp; at Foweera there
was no high grass, and the country was perfectly open, so that the
rifles could command an extensive range. The cunning and duplicity of
Kamrasi were extraordinary--he promised, only to deceive; his object
in leaving us here was premeditated, as he knew that the M'was, should
they pursue him, must fight us before they could follow on his path; we
were therefore to be left to defend his rear. The order to camp at
Foweera had a similar motive. I knew the country, as we had passed it on
our march from Atada to M'rooli; it was about three miles from Karuma
Falls, and would form a position in Kamrasi's rear when he should
locate, himself upon the island. Foweera was an excellent military
point, as it was equidistant from the Nile north and east at the angle
where the river turned to the west from Atada.
I was so annoyed at the deception practised by Kamrasi that I determined
to fraternise with the M'was, should they appear at Kisoona; and I made
up my mind not to fire a shot except in absolute necessity for so
faithless an ally as the king. This I explained to M'Gambi, and
threatened that if porters were not supplied I would wait at Kisoona,
join the M'was on their arrival, and with them as allies I would attack
the island which Kamrasi boasted was his stronghold. This idea
frightened M'Gambi, and both he and Cassave started to procure porters,
promising most faithfully to appear that evening, and to start together
to Foweera on the following morning. We were a party of twenty guns;
there was no fear in the event of an attack. I ordered all the huts of
the village to be burned except those belonging to our men; thus we had
a clear space for the guns in case of necessity. In the evening, true to
his promise, M'Gambi appeared with a number of natives, but Cassave had
followed Kamrasi.
At sunrise on the following day we started, my wife in a litter, and I
in a chair. The road was extremely bad, excessively muddy from the rain
of yesterday, trodden deeply by the hoofs of herds of cattle, and by the
feet of the thousands that had formed Kamrasi's army and camp followers.
There was no variety in the country, it was the same undulating land
overgrown with impenetrable grass, and wooded with mimosas; every swamp
being shaded by clumps of the graceful wild date. After a march of about
eight miles we found the route dry and dusty, the rain on the preceding
day having been partial. There was no water on the road and we were all
thirsty, having calculated on a supply from the heavy rain. Although
many thousands of people had travelled on the path so recently as the
previous day, it was nevertheless narrow and hemmed in by the high
grass, as the crowd had marched in single file and had therefore not
widened the route. This caused great delay to the porters who carried
the litter, as they marched two deep; thus one man had to struggle
through the high grass. M'Gambi started off in advance of the party with
several natives at a rapid pace, while the Turks and some of my men
guarded the ammunition, and I remained in company with the litter and
five of my men to bring up the rear. The progress of the litter was so
slow that, after travelling all day until sunset, we were outmarched,
and just as it was getting dark, we arrived at a spot where a path
branched to the south, while the main path that we had been following
continued E.N.E. At this point a native was waiting, having been
stationed there by the Turks to direct us to the south; he explained
that the people had halted at a village close by. Pushing our way
through the narrow path we shortly arrived at the village of Deang. This
consisted of a few deserted huts scattered among extensive groves of
plantains. Here we found Eddrees and the Turks, with their captives from
the attack on Fowooka; passing their huts, we took possession of two
clean and new huts in the midst of a well-cultivated field of beans that
were about six inches above the ground, the cleared field forming an
oasis in the middle of the surrounding grass jungle There was no water;
it was already dark, and, although we had travelled through the heat of
the day, no one had drunk since the morning. We were intensely thirsty,
and the men searched in vain among the deserted huts in the hope of
finding a supply in the water jars they were all empty. Fortunately we
had a little sour milk in a jar that we had carried with us, barely
sufficient for two persons. There was nothing to eat except unripe
plantains: these we boiled as a substitute for potatoes. I disarmed all
the porters, placing their lances and shields under my bedstead in the
hut, lest their owners should abscond during the night. It now appeared
that our party had scattered most disgracefully; those in advance with
the ammunition who bad been ordered not to quit their charge for an
instant, had outmarched the main body, leaving Eddrees and a few men
with the captive women, who could not walk fast, and my small guard who
had attended the litter.
No one ate much that night, as all were too thirsty. On the following
morning I found to my dismay that all of our porters had absconded,
except two men who had slept in the same hut with my people; we were for
about the hundredth time deserted in this detestable country. I ordered
Eddrees to push on to Foweera, and to desire my men with the ammunition
to wait there until I should arrive, and to request Kamrasi to send
porters immediately to assist us. Foweera was about thirteen miles from
Deang, our present position. Eddrees and his party started, and I
immediately sent my men with empty jars to search in all directions for
water; they returned in about an hour, having been unsuccessful. I again
ordered them to search in another direction, and should they find a
native, to force him to be their guide to a drinking place. In about
three hours they returned, accompanied by two old men, and laden with
three large jars of good water; they had found the old people in a
deserted village, and they had guided them to a spring about three miles
distant. Our chief want being supplied, we had no fear of starving, as
there was abundance of plantains, and we had about a dozen cheeses that
we had manufactured while at Kisoona, in addition to a large supply of
flour. A slight touch of fever attacked me, and I at length fell asleep.
I was awakened by the voices of my men, who were standing at the door of
my hut with most doleful countenances. They explained that Richarn was
missing, and was supposed to have been killed by the natives. My vakeel
held a broken ramrod in his hand: this suspicious witness was covered
with blood. It appeared that while I was asleep, Richarn and one of my
men named Mahommed had taken their guns, and without orders had rambled
through the country in search of a village, with the intention of
procuring porters, if possible, to carry us to Foweera.
They had arrived at a nest of small villages, and had succeeded in
engaging four men; these Richarn left in charge of Mahommed while he
proceeded alone to a neighbouring village. Shortly after his departure
Mahommed heard the report of a gun in that direction about half a mile
distant, and leaving his charge, he ran towards the spot. On arrival, he
found the village deserted, and on searching the neighbourhood, and
vainly calling Richarn, he came upon a large pool of blood opposite
several huts; lying upon the blood was the broken ramrod of Richarn's
gun. After searching without success, he had returned with the
melancholy report of this disaster. I was very fond of Richarn; he had
followed me faithfully for years, and with fewer faults than most of his
race, he had exhibited many sterling qualities. I waited for two days in
this spot, searching for him in all directions. On one occasion my men
saw a number of men and women howling in a village not far from the
place where the accident had happened; on the approach of my people they
fled into the jungles: thus, there was no doubt that Richarn must have
shot a man before he had been killed, as the natives were mourning for
the dead.
I was much distressed at this calamity; my faithful Richarn was dead,
and the double-barrelled Purdey that he carried was lost; this belonged
to my friend Oswell, of South African and Lake Ngami celebrity; it was a
much-prized weapon, with which he had hunted for five years all the
heavy game of Africa with such untiring zeal that much of the wood of
the stock was eaten away by the "wait a bit" thorns in his passage on
horseback at full speed through the jungles. He had very kindly lent me
this old companion of his sports, and I had entrusted it to Richarn as
my most careful man: both man and gun were now lost.
Having vainly searched for two days, and my men having seen several
village dogs with their mouths and feet covered with blood, we came to
the conclusion that his body had been dragged into the grass jungle by
the natives, and there, concealed, it had been discovered and devoured
by the dogs.
No porters had arrived from Kamrasi, neither had any reply been sent to
the message I had forwarded by Eddrees;--the evening arrived, and,
much dispirited at the loss of my old servant, I lay down on my angarep
for the night. At about eight o'clock, in the stillness of our solitude,
my men asleep, with the exception of the sentry, we were startled by the
sound of a nogara at no great distance to the south of our huts. The two
natives who had remained with us immediately woke the men, and declared
that the drums we heard were those of the M'was, who were evidently
approaching our village;--the natives knew the peculiar sound of the
nogaras of the enemy, which were different to those of Kamrasi. This was
rather awkward--our ammunition was at Foweera, and we had no more than
the supply in our cartouche boxes, my men thirty rounds each, while I
carried in my pouch twenty-one. Our position was untenable, as the
drinking place was three miles distant. Again the nogara sounded, and
the native guides declared that they could not remain where we then
were, but they would conceal themselves in the high grass. My wife
proposed that we should forsake our luggage, and march at once for
Foweera and effect a junction with our men and ammunition before
daybreak. I was sure that it could not be less than twelve or thirteen
miles, and in her weak state it would be impossible for her to
accomplish the distance, through high grass, in darkness, over a rough
path, with the chance of the route being already occupied by the enemy.
However, she was determined to risk the march. I accordingly prepared to
start at 9 P.M., as at that time the moon would be about 30 degrees
above the horizon and would afford us a good light. I piled all the
luggage within the hut, packed our blankets in a canvas bag, to be
carried by one of the natives, and ordered one of our black women to
carry a jar of water. Thus provided, and forsaking all other effects, we
started at exactly nine o'clock, following our two natives as guides.
Our course was about E.N.E. The moon was bright, but the great height of
the grass shadowed the narrow path so that neither ruts nor stones were
visible. The dew was exceedingly heavy, and in brushing through the rank
vegetation we were soon wet to the skin. This was our first attempt at
walking a distance since many months, and being dreadfully out of
condition, I much feared that one of us might be attacked by fever
before we should have accomplished the march; at all events, there was
no alternative but to push ahead until we should reach Foweera, however
distant. We walked for about three hours along a narrow but
unmistakeable path, well trodden by the cattle and people that had
accompanied Kamrasi. Suddenly we arrived at a place where a path
diverged to the right, while another led to the left: the former was
much trodden by cattle, and the guides declared this to be the right
direction. Perfectly certain of their mistake, as Foweera lay to the
east, while such a course would lead us due south, I refused to follow,
and ordered the party to halt while I made a survey of the
neighbourhood. I shortly discovered in the bright moonlight that the
larger path to the south had been caused by the cattle that had been
driven in that direction, but had again returned by the same route. It
was evident that some village lay to the south, at which Kamrasi and his
army had slept, and that they had returned by the same path to the
Foweera main route on the following morning. I soon discovered cattle
tracks on the smaller path to the east: this I determined to follow. My
guides were of little use, and they confessed that they had only once
visited the Foweera country. We were bound for the principal village
that belonged to the chief Kalloe, an excellent man, who had frequently
visited us at Kisoona.
Not far from the branch roads we came suddenly upon a few huts, the
inmates of which were awake. They gave us the unpleasant intelligence
that the M'was occupied the country in advance, and that we should not
be able to pass them on our present route, as they were close to that
spot. It was now past midnight, the country was perfectly still, and
having no confidence in the guides I led the way.
About a mile from the huts that we had passed we suddenly observed the
light of numerous fires, and a great number of temporary huts formed of
green grass and plantain leaves: this was the camp of the M'was. I did
not observe any people, nor did we wait long in our present position,
but taking a path that led to the north, we quietly and stealthily
continued our march through walls of high grass, until in about an hour
we arrived in a totally different country. There was no longer the
dismal grass jungle in which a man was as much lost as a rabbit in a
field of corn, but beautiful park-like glades of rich and tender grass,
like an English meadow, stretched before us in the pale moonlight,
darkened in many places by the shadows of isolated trees and clumps of
forest. Continuing along this agreeable route, we suddenly arrived at a
spot where numerous well-beaten paths branched into all directions. This
was extreme confusion. We had left the direct route to Foweera when we
had made the detour to avoid the M'was' camp. I knew that, as we had
then turned to the north, our course should now be due east. There was a
path leading in that direction; but just as we were quietly deliberating
upon the most advisable course, we heard distant voices. Any voice in
this neighbourhood I concluded must be that of an enemy, therefore I
ordered my people to sit down, while two men concealed themselves on the
borders of a jungle, about a hundred yards distant, as sentries.
I then sent Bacheeta and one of the guides towards the spot from which
the sound of voices had proceeded, to listen to their language, and to
report whether they were M'was, or people of Foweera. The spies started
cautiously on their errand.
About five minutes passed in utter silence; the voices that we had heard
had ceased. We were very cold, being wet through with the dew. My wife
was much fatigued, and now rested by sitting on the bag of blankets. I
was afraid of remaining long in inaction, lest she should become stiff
and be unable to march.
We had been thus waiting for about ten minutes, when we were suddenly
startled by the most fearful and piercing yell I ever heard. This
proceeded from the jungle where one of my men was on guard, about a
hundred yards distant.
For the moment I thought he had been caught by a lion, and cocking my
rifle, I ran towards the spot. Before I reached the jungle I saw one of
the sentries running in the same direction, and two other figures
approaching, one being dragged along by the throat by my man Moosa. He
had a prisoner. It appeared, that while he was crouching beneath the
bushes at the entrance of the main path that led through the jungle, he
suddenly observed a man quietly stealing along the forest close to him.
He waited, unobserved, until the figure had passed him, when he quickly
sprang upon him from behind, seizing his spear with his left hand and
grasping his throat with his right.
This sudden and unexpected attack from an unseen enemy had so terrified
the native that he had uttered the extraordinary yell that had startled
our party. He was now triumphantly led by his captor, but he was so
prostrated by fear that he trembled as though in an ague fit. I
endeavoured to reassure him, and Bacheeta shortly returning with the
guide, we discovered the value of our prize.
Far from being an enemy, he was one of Kalloe's men, who had been sent
to spy the M'was from Foweera: thus we had a dependable guide. This
little incident was as refreshing as a glass of sherry during the
night's march, and we enjoyed a hearty laugh. Bacheeta had been
unsuccessful in finding the origin of the voices, as they had ceased
shortly after she had left us. It appeared that our captive had also
heard the voices, and he was stealthily endeavouring to ascertain the
cause when he was so roughly seized by Moosa. We now explained to him
our route, and he at once led the way, relieving the native who had
hitherto carried the bag of blankets. We had made a considerable circuit
by turning from the direct path, but we now had the advantage of seeing
the open country before us, and marching upon a good and even path. We
walked for about three hours from this spot at a brisk pace, my wife
falling three times from sheer fatigue, which induced stumbling over the
slightest inequalities in the road. At length we descended a valley, and
crossing a slight hollow, we commenced the ascent of a gentle
inclination upon a beautiful grassy undulation crowned by a clump of
large trees. In the stillness of the night wherever we had halted we had
distinctly heard the distant roar of the river; but the sound had so
much increased within the last hour that I felt convinced we must be
near Foweera at the bend of the Victoria Nile. My wife was so exhausted
with the long march, rendered doubly fatiguing by the dew that had added
additional weight to her clothes, that she could hardly ascend the hill
we had just commenced. For the last hour our guide had declared that
Foweera was close to us; but experienced in natives' descriptions of
distance, we were quite uncertain as to the hour at which we should
arrive. We were already at the top of the hill, and within about two
hundred yards of the dense clump of trees my wife was obliged to confess
that she could go no farther. Just at that moment a cock crowed; another
replied immediately from the clump of trees close to us, and the guide,
little appreciating the blessing of his announcement, told us that we
had arrived at Kalloe's village, for which we were bound.
It was nearly 5 A.M., and we had marched from Deang at 9 P.M. There was
some caution required in approaching the village, as, should one of the
Turks' sentries be on guard, he would in all probability fire at the
first object he might see, without a challenge. I therefore ordered my
men to shout, while I gave my well-known whistle that would be a signal
of our arrival. For some time we exerted our lungs in this manner before
we received a reply, and I began to fear that our people were not at
this village: at length a well-known voice replied in Arabic. The
sentries and the whole party were positively ASLEEP, although close to
an enemy's country. They were soon awake when it was reported that we
had arrived, and upon our entering the village they crowded around us
with the usual welcome. A large fire was lighted in a spacious hut, and
fortunately, the portmanteau having preceded us together with the
ammunition, we were provided with a change of clothes.
I slept for a couple of hours, and then sent for the chief of Foweera,
Kalloe. Both he and his son appeared; they said that their spies had
reported that the M'was would attack this village on the following day;
that they had devastated the entire country and occupied the whole of
Unyoro and Chopi; that they had cut off a large herd of cattle belonging
to Kamrasi, and he had only just reached the island in time for
security, as the enemy had arrived at the spot and killed a number of
people who were too late to embark. Kalloe reported that Kamrasi had
fired at the M'was from the island, but having no bullets his rifle was
useless. The M'was had returned the fire, being provided with four guns
that they had procured from Speke's deserters;--they were in the same
condition as Kamrasi, having no bullets; thus a harmless fusilade had
been carried on by both parties. The M'was had retired from their
position on the bank of the river by Kamrasi's island, and had proceeded
to Atada, which they had destroyed.
They were now within three miles of us; nevertheless the foolish Kalloe
expressed his determination of driving his cattle to Kamrasi's island
for security, about two miles distant. I endeavoured to persuade him
that they would be perfectly safe if under our protection, but his only
reply was to order his son to drive them off immediately.
That day, Kalloe and all the natives quitted the village and fled to an
island for security, leaving us masters of the position. I served out a
quantity of ammunition to the Turks, and we were perfectly prepared. The
drums of the M'was were heard in all directions both day and night; but
we were perfectly comfortable, as the granaries were well filled, and
innumerable fowls stored both this and the closely adjoining deserted
villages.
On the following day M'Gambi appeared with a message from Kamrasi,
begging us to come and form a camp on the bank of the river opposite to
his island to protect him from the M'was, who would assuredly return and
attack him in canoes. I told him plainly that I should not interfere to
assist him, as he had left me on the road at Deang; that Richarn had
been killed by his people, and that one of my guns was still in their
possession, added to which I had been obliged to forsake all my baggage,
owing to the desertion of the porters;--for all these errors I should
hold Kamrasi responsible. He replied that he did not think Richarn was
killed, but that he had shot the chief of a village dead, having got
into some quarrel with the natives.
The conversation ended by my adhering to my intention of remaining
independent at Foweera. M'Gambi said they were very miserable on the
island, that no one could rest day or night for the mosquitoes, and that
they were suffering from famine;--he had several men with him, who at
once set to work to thrash out corn from the well-filled granaries of
the village, and they departed heavily laden. During the day a few
natives of the district found their way into the village for a similar
purpose. I had previously heard that the inhabitants of Foweera were
disaffected, and that many were in correspondence with the enemy. I
accordingly instructed Bacheeta to converse with the people, and to
endeavour through them to get into communication with the M'was,
assuring them that I should remain neutral, unless attacked, but if
their intentions were hostile I was quite ready to fight. At the same
time I instructed her to explain that I should be sorry to fire at the
servants of M'tese, as he had behaved well to my friends Speke and
Grant, but that the best way to avoid a collision would be for the M'was
to keep at a distance from my camp. Bacheeta told me that this assurance
would be certain to reach the chief of the M'was, as many of the natives
of Chopi were in league with them against Kamrasi.
In the afternoon of that day I strolled outside the village with some of
my men to accompany the party to the drinking place from which we
procured our water; it was about a quarter of a mile from the camp, and
it was considered dangerous for any one to venture so far without the
protection of an armed party.
We had just returned, and were standing in the cool of the evening on
the lawn opposite the entrance of the camp, when one of my men came
rushing towards us, shouting, "Richarn! Richarn's come back!" In another
moment I saw with extreme delight the jet black Richarn, whom I had
mourned as lost, quietly marching towards us. The meeting was almost
pathetic. I took him warmly by the hand and gave him a few words of
welcome, but my vakeel, who had never cared for him before, threw
himself upon his neck and burst out crying like a child. How long this
sobbing would have continued I know not, as several of my Arabs caught
the infection and began to be lachrymose, while Richarn, embraced on all
sides, stood the ordeal most stoically, looking extremely bewildered,
but totally unconscious of the cause of so much weeping. To change the
current of feeling, I told the boy Saat to fetch a large gourd-shell of
merissa (native beer), of which I had received a good supply from
Kalloe. This soon arrived, and was by far the most acceptable welcome to
Richarn, who drank like a whale. So large was the gourd, that even after
the mighty draught enough remained for the rest of the party to sip.
Refreshed by the much-loved drink, Richarn now told us his story. When
separated from Mahommed at the village he had found a great number of
people, some of whom were our runaway porters; on his attempting to
persuade them to return, a quarrel had taken place, and the chief of the
village heading his men had advanced on Richarn and seized his gun;--at
the same time the chief called to his men to kill him. Richarn drew his
knife to release his gun; seeing which, the chief relaxed his hold, and
stepping a pace back he raised his lance to strike;--at the same moment
Richarn pulled the trigger and shot him dead. The natives,
panic-stricken at the sudden effect of the shot, rushed away, and
Richarn, profiting by the opportunity, disappeared in the high grass,
and fled. Once in the interminable sea of grass that was almost
impenetrable, he wandered for two days without water: hearing the
distant roar of the Nile, he at length reached it when nearly exhausted
with thirst and fatigue;--he then followed up the stream to Karuma,
avoided the M'was,--and knowing the road thence to M'rooli that we had
formerly travelled, he arrived at Foweera. His ramrod had been broken in
the struggle when the chief seized his gun, and to his great
astonishment I now showed him the piece that we had picked up on the
pool of blood. He had made an excellent loading-rod with his hunting
knife by shaping a sapling of hard wood, and had reloaded his gun; thus
with a good supply of ammunition he had not much fear of the natives.
Kamrasi had evidently heard the true account of the affair.
Late in the evening we heard from a native that the whole of Kalloe's
cattle that he had driven from Foweera had been captured by the enemy on
their way to the river island, and that one of his sons and several
natives who had driven them were killed;--this was the result of his
precipitate flight.
The M'was followed up their advantages with uninterrupted success,
overrunning the entire country even to the shores of the Albert lake,
and driving off the cattle, together with all the women that had not
taken refuge upon the numerous islands of the Victoria Nile. During this
time, Kamrasi and his wives, together with his principal chiefs, resided
in the misery of mosquitoes and malaria on the river; great numbers of
people died of disease and starvation.
M'Gambi appeared frequently at our camp in order to procure corn, and
from him we received reports of the distress of the people; his
appearance had much changed; he looked half starved, and complained that
he had nothing to drink but Nile water, as they had neither corn, nor
pots in which they could make merissa, and the M'was had destroyed all
the plantains, therefore they could not prepare cider.
Among other losses my two cows were reported by M'Gambi to have been
stolen by the M'was, in company with the cattle of Kamrasi, with which
they had been driven from Kisoona. I did not believe it, as he also told
me that all the luggage that I had left at Deang had like wise been
stolen by the enemy. But I had heard from Bacheeta that the natives of
that neighbourhood had carried it (about six loads) direct to Kamrasi's
island; thus it was in his possession at the same time that he declared
it to have been stolen by the M'was. I told him, that I should hold him
responsible, and that he should pay me the value of the lost effects in
a certain number of cows.
A few days after this conversation, my cows and the whole of my luggage
were delivered to me in safety. Kamrasi had evidently intended to
appropriate them, but being pressed by the M'was and his old enemies on
the east bank of the Nile (the Langgos), who had made common cause with
the invaders, the time was not favourable for a quarrel with either me
or the Turks.
On the evening of the 19th September, a few days after this occurrence,
intelligence was brought into camp that Ibrahim and a hundred men had
arrived at Karuma Falls at the ferry by which we had formerly crossed
the river to Atada. I immediately despatched ten men to investigate the
truth of the report. In about two hours they returned in high spirits,
having exchanged greeting with Ibrahim and his party across the river.
Kamrasi had despatched boats to another ferry above the Falls to
facilitate the passage of the entire party on the following morning, as
he wished them to attack the M'was immediately.
Not being desirous of such an encounter, the M'was, who had witnessed
the arrival of this powerful reinforcement, immediately retreated, and
by sunrise they had fallen back about twenty miles on the road to
M'rooli.
On the morning of the 20th Ibrahim arrived, bringing with him the Post
from England; that being addressed to the consul at Khartoum had been
forwarded to Gondokoro by the annual boats, and taken charge of by
Ibrahim on his arrival at that station last April with ivory from the
interior. My letters were of very old dates, none under two years, with
the exception of one from Speke, who had sent me the Illustrated London
News, containing his portrait and that of Grant; also Punch, with an
illustration of Punch's discovery of the Nile sources. For a whole day I
revelled in the luxury of letters and newspapers.
Ibrahim had very kindly thought of our necessities when at Gondokoro,
and had brought me a piece of coarse cotton cloth of Arab manufacture
(darmoor) for clothes for myself, and a piece of cotton print for a
dress for Mrs. Baker, in addition to a large jar of honey, and some rice
and coffee--the latter being the balance of my old stock that I bad
been obliged to forsake for want of porters at Shooa. He told me that
all my effects that I had left at Obbo had been returned to Gondokoro,
and that my two men, whom I had left in charge, had returned with them
to Khartoum, on board the vessel that had been sent for me from that
place, but which had joined the traders' boats on their return voyage.
Ibrahim had assured the captain that it was impossible that we could
arrive during that year. It was thus fortunate that we had not pushed on
for Gondokoro after April in expectation of finding the boat awaiting
us. However, "All's well that ends well," and Ibrahim was astounded at
our success, but rather shocked at our personal appearance, as we were
thin and haggard, and our clothes had been so frequently repaired that
they would hardly hold together.
On the 23d September we moved our camp, and took possession of a village
within half a mile of the Victoria Nile. Kamrasi was now very valorous,
and returned from his island to a large village on the banks of the
river. He sent Ibrahim an immense quantity of ivory, in addition to the
store that had been concealed by Eddrees on our departure from Kisoona;
this was sent for, and in a few days it was safely deposited in the
general camp. Ibrahim was amazed at the fortune that awaited him. I
congratulated him most heartily on the success of the two expeditions--
the geographical, and the ivory trade; the latter having far more than
fulfilled my promise.
Kamrasi determined to invade the Langgo country immediately, as they had
received Fowooka after his defeat, and he was now residing with the
chief. Accordingly, eighty of Ibrahim's men were despatched across the
river, and in three days they destroyed a number of villages, and
captured about 200 head of cattle, together with a number of prisoners,
including many women. Great rejoicings took place on their return;
Ibrahim presented Kamrasi with a hundred cows, and in return for this
generosity the king sent thirty immense tusks, and promised a hundred
more within a few days.
Another expedition was demanded, and was quickly undertaken with similar
success; this time Fowooka narrowly escaped, as a Turk fired at him, but
missed and killed a native who stood by him. On the return of the party,
Kamrasi received another present of cattle, and again the ivory flowed
into the camp.
In the meantime, I had made myself excessively comfortable; we were in a
beautiful and highly cultivated district, in the midst of immense fields
of sweet potatoes. The idea struck me that I could manufacture spirit
from this source, as they were so excessively sweet as to be
disagreeable as a vegetable. Accordingly I collected a great number of
large jars that were used by the natives for brewing merissa; in these I
boiled several hundredweight of potatoes to a pulp. There were jars
containing about twenty gallons; these I filled with the pulp mashed
with water, to which I added yeast from a brewing of merissa. While this
mixture was fermenting I constructed my still, by fixing a jar of about
twelve gallons on a neat furnace of clay, and inserting the mouth of a
smaller jar upon the top; the smaller jar thus inverted became the dome
of the still. In the top of this I bored a hole, in which I fitted a
long reed of about an inch in diameter, which descended to my condenser;
the latter was the kettle, sunk by a weight in a large pan of cold
water.
My still worked beautifully, and produced four or five bottles of good
spirit daily;--this I stored in large bottle gourds, containing about
four gallons each. My men were excessively fond of attending to the
distillery, especially Richarn, who took a deep interest in the
operation, but who was frequently found dead asleep on his back; the
fire out; and the still at a standstill. Of course he could not be
suspected of having tried the produce of his manufactory! I found an
extraordinary change in my health from the time that I commenced
drinking the potato whisky. Every day I drank hot toddy. I became
strong, and from that time to the present day my fever left me,
occurring only once or twice during the first six months, and then
quitting me entirely. Not having tasted either wine or spirits for
nearly two years, the sudden change from total abstinence to a moderate
allowance of stimulant produced a marvellous effect. Ibrahim and some of
his men established stills; several became intoxicated, which so
delighted M'Gambi, who happened to be present, that he begged a bottle
of spirit from Ibrahim as a sample for Kamrasi. It appears that the king
got drunk so quickly upon the potent spirit, that he had an especial
desire to repeat the dose--he called it the maroua (cider) of our
country, and pronounced it so far superior to his own that he determined
to establish a factory. When I explained to him that it was the produce
of sweet potatoes, he expressed his great regret that he had never
sufficiently appreciated their value, and he expressed a determination
to cultivate whole districts. Ibrahim was requested to leave one of his
men who understood the management of a still, to establish and undertake
the direction of "King Kamrasi's Central African Unyoro Potato-Whisky
Company, unlimited."
Ibrahim had brought a variety of presents for Kamrasi: fifty pounds of
beads, a revolver pistol, cotton cloths, blue glass tumblers,
looking-glasses, &c. These donations, added to the pleasure afforded by
the defeat of his enemies, put his majesty into excellent humour, sad he
frequently came to visit us. On one occasion I gave him the portraits of
Speke and Grant: the latter he recognised immediately; he could not
understand the pictures in Punch, declaring that he (Punch) was not an
Englishman, as he neither resembled me nor Speke; but he was exceedingly
pleased with the Paris fashions in the Illustrated London News, which we
cut out with a pair of scissors, and gave him as specimens of English
ladies in full dress.
The war being concluded by the total discomfiture of his enemies,
Kamrasi was determined to destroy all those inhabitants of Foweera who
had in any way connived as the attack of the M'was. Daily executions
took place in the summary manner already described, the victims being
captured, led before the king, and butchered in his presence without a
trial.
Among others suspected as favourable to revolution was Kalloe, the chief
of Foweera; next to Kamrasi and M'Gambi he was the principal man in the
kingdom; he was much beloved by the entire population of Chopi and
Foweera, and I had always found him most intelligent and friendly. One
night, at about eight o'clock, Ibrahim came to my hut looking very
mysterious, and after assuring himself that no one was present, he
confided to me that he had received orders from Kamrasi to attack
Kalloe's village before daybreak on the following morning, to surround
his dwelling, and to shoot him as he attempted to escape; Ibrahim was
further instructed to capture the women and children of the village as
his perquisites. At the very moment that thus treacherous compact had
been entered into with Ibrahim, Kamrasi had pretended to be upon the
most friendly terms with Kalloe, who was then in his camp; but he did
not lay violent hands upon him, as, many of the natives being in his
favour, the consequences might have been disagreeable: thus he had
secretly ordered his destruction. I at once desired Ibrahim at all
hazards to renounce so horrible a design. Never did I feel so full of
revolution as at that moment; my first impulse was to assist Kalloe to
dethrone Kamrasi, and to usurp the kingdom. Ibrahim had an eye to
business; he knew, that should he offend Kamrasi there would be an end
to the ivory trade for the present. The country was so rich in ivory
that it was a perfect bank upon which he could draw without limit,
provided that he remained an ally of the king; but no trade could be
carried on with the natives, all business being prohibited by Kamrasi,
who himself monopolised the profits. In the event of war, not a tusk
would be obtained, as the ivory in possession of the natives was never
stored in their huts, but was concealed in the earth. The Turks were now
mercenaries employed by the king to do any bloody work that he might
require.
Ibrahim was in a dilemma. I offered to take the entire onus upon myself.
That Kalloe should not be murdered I was determined; the old man had on
several occasions been very obliging to me and to my people, and I
resolved to save him at any risk. His son, perfectly unsuspicious of
evil, was at that moment in our camp, having fraternized with some of my
men. I sent for him immediately and explained the entire plot,
concluding by telling him to run that instant at full speed to his
father (about two miles distant), and to send away all the women and
children from the village, but to bring Kalloe to my hut; that I would
hoist the British flag, as I had done at Kisoona, and this should
protect him from the bloodthirsty Kamrasi, who would not dare to seize
him. Should he refuse to trust me, he must fly immediately, as the Turks
would attack the village before daybreak. Away started the astonished
son in the dark night at full speed along the well-known path, to give
the warning.
I now arranged with Ibrahim that to avoid offending Kamrasi he should
make a false attack upon the village at the time appointed; he would
find it deserted, and there would be an end of the matter should Kalloe
prefer flight to trusting in my protection, which I felt sure he would.
Midnight arrived, and no signs of Kalloe had appeared; I went to sleep,
satisfied that he was safe. Before daybreak eighty men of the Turks'
party started upon their feigned expedition; in about two hours they
returned, having found the village deserted;--the bird had flown. I was
delighted at the success of this ruse, but I should have been more
satisfied had Kalloe placed himself in my hands: this I had felt sure he
would decline, as the character of the natives is generally so false and
mistrustful that he would suspect a snare.
At about noon we heard yells; drums were beating and horns blowing in
all directions. For the moment I thought that Kalloe had raised the
country against Kamrasi, as I observed many hundred men dressed for war,
scouring the beautiful open park, like hounds upon a scent. The Turks
beat their drum and called their men under arms beneath the ensign
planted outside the village,--not knowing the intention of the unusual
gathering. It shortly transpired that Kamrasi had heard of the escape of
Kalloe, and, enraged at the loss of his prey, he had immediately started
about a thousand men in pursuit.
In the evening I heard that he had been captured. I sent to Kamrasi
directly, to beg him to postpone his execution, as I wished to speak
with him on the following morning.
At sunrise I started, and found the king sitting in his but, while
Kalloe was lying under a plantain tree perfectly resigned, with his leg
in the Kamrasi shoe--a block of wood of about four feet long and ten
inches thick (the rough trunk of a tree); his left foot had been thrust
through a small hole in the log, while a peg driven through at right
angles just above the instep effectually secured the prisoner. This was
a favourite punishment of the king; the prisoner might thus languish
until released by death; it was impossible to sit up, and difficult to
lie down, the log having to be adjusted by an attendant according to the
movement of the body. I told Kamrasi that as I had saved him from the
attack of the Turks at Kisoona he must grant me a favour, and spare
Kalloe's life: this request, to my astonishment, he at once granted,
[A few days afterwards he shot Kalloe with his own hands.] and
added, that he should only keep him in the "shoe" for a few days, until
his people should bring him a hundred cows as a fine, in which case he
should release him. I had no faith in his promise, as I had before heard
that it was his practice to put the shoe upon any rich man in order to
extract a fine, upon the payment of which the unfortunate prisoner was
on some occasions killed instead of liberated. However, I had done all
in my power; and had Kalloe been a man of determination, he could have
saved himself by trusting implicitly to me. As I returned to the camp, I
could not help reflecting on the ingratitude I had experienced among all
the natives; on many occasions I had exerted myself to benefit others in
whom I had no personal interest, but in no single instance had I ever
received even a look of gratitude.
Two days after this occurrence I ordered the boy Saat to go as usual in
search of supplies to the neighbouring villages; but as he was starting,
Ibrahim advised him to wait a little, as something was wrong, and it
would be dangerous to go alone. A few minutes later, I heard three shots
fired in rapid succession at about three-quarters of a mile distant. The
Turks and my men immediately thronged outside the village, which
position being on a hill, we had a panoramic view of the surrounding
country.
We shortly perceived a number of men, including a few of the Turks'
party, approaching from an opposite hill, carrying something heavy in
their arms. With the telescope I distinguished a mat on which some
object of weight was laboriously supported, the bearers grasping the
corners in their hands. "One of our people is killed!" murmured one
Turk. "Perhaps it's only a native," said another. "Who would trouble
himself to carry a black fellow home!" exclaimed a third. The mystery
was soon cleared by the arrival of the party with the dead body of one
of Kamrasi's headmen; one ball had struck him through the chest, another
through the right arm, and the third had passed through the body from
side to side. He had been shot by some Bari slaves who acted as soldiers
belonging to the Turks' party. It appeared that the deceased had
formerly sent seventy elephants' tusks to the people of Mahommed
Wat-el-Mek against the orders of Kamrasi, who had prohibited the export
of ivory from his kingdom, as he had agreed to deal exclusively with
Ibrahim. The culprit was therefore condemned to death, but having some
powerful adherents in his village, Kamrasi had thought it advisable to
employ the Turks to shoot him; this task they gladly accepted, as they
were minus seventy tusks through his conduct. Without my knowledge, a
small party had started in open daylight to his village close to our
camp, and on attempting to enter the fence, several lances were thrown
at the Turks; the deceased rushed from the hut attempting to escape, and
was immediately shot dead by three of the Bari soldiers. The hands were
then (as usual in all these countries) amputated at the wrists, in order
to detach the copper bracelets; the body being dragged about two hundred
paces from the village, was suspended by the neck to a branch of the
tamarind tree. All the slave women (about seventy) and children were
then driven down to the spot by the Turks to view the body as it swung
from the branch; when thoroughly horrified by the sight, they were
threatened to be served precisely in a similar manner should they ever
attempt to escape.
Superlatively brutal as this appeared, I could not help reflecting that
our public executions in England convey a similar moral; the only
difference being in the conduct of the women; the savages having to be
DRIVEN to the sight as witnesses, while European females throng
curiously to such disgusting exhibitions. A few minutes after the
departure of the crowd, the tree was covered with vultures, all watching
the prospective feast. [The woman Bacheeta ran away, and we never saw
her again. Some time after, we heard that she had escaped to Fowooka's
people, fearing to be left by us, as we had promised, in Chopi.]
In the evening Kamrasi sent a number of women and children as presents
to Ibrahim: altogether he had given him seventy-two slaves in addition
to those captured in the various wars. There never was a more supreme
despot than the king Kamrasi--not only the property, but the families
of his subjects were at his disposal; he boasted that "all belonged to
him." Thus, when disposed to be liberal, he took from others and
bestowed upon his favourites; should any sufferer complain, there were
no lawyer's costs, but the "shoe," or death. His power depended upon a
perfect system of espionage, by which he obtained a knowledge of all
that passed throughout his kingdom; that being divided into numerous
small districts, each governed by a chief, who was responsible for the
acts committed within his jurisdiction, the government was wonderfully
simplified. Should a complaint be made against a governor, he was
summoned before the king; if guilty, death, or the "shoe!" To be
suspected of rebellion, was to die. A bodyguard of about 500 men, who
were allowed to pillage the country at discretion, secured the power of
the king, as with this organized force always at hand he could pounce
upon the suspected and extinguish them at once: thus the tyrant held his
sway over a population so timid that they yielded tamely to his
oppression. Having now allied himself to the Turks, he had conceived the
most ambitious views of conquering Uganda, and of restoring the ancient
kingdom of Kitwara; but the total absence of physical courage will
utterly frustrate such plans for extension, and Kamrasi the Cruel will
never be known as Kamrasi the Conqueror.
CHAPTER XVI.
KAMRASI'S ADIEU.
It was the middle of November--not the wretched month that chills even
the recollection of Old England, but the last of the ten months of rain
that causes the wonderful vegetation of the fertile soil in Equatorial
Africa. The Turks were ready to return to Shooa, and I longed for the
change from this brutal country to the still wilder but less bloody
tribe of Madi, to the north.
The quantity of ivory in camp was so large that we required 700 porters
to carry both tusks and provisions, &c. for the five days' march through
uninhabited country. Kamrasi came to see us before we parted; he had
provided the requisite porters. We were to start on the following day;
he arrived with the Blissett rifle that had been given him by Speke. He
told me that he was sorry we were going; and he was much distressed that
he had burst his rifle!--he had hammered a large bullet in the endeavour
to fit the bore; and the lump of lead having stuck in the middle, he had
fired his rifle and split the barrel, which being of remarkably good
metal had simply opened. He told me that it did not matter so very much
after all, as he had neither powder nor ball (this was false, as Ibrahim
had just given him a quantity), therefore his rifle would have been
useless if sound; but he added, "You are now going home, where you can
obtain all you require, therefore you will want for nothing; give me,
before you leave, the little double-barrelled rifle that YOU PROMISED
me, and a supply of ammunition!" To the last moment he was determined to
persevere in his demand, and, if possible, to obtain my handy little
Fletcher 24 rifle, that had been demanded and refused ever since my
residence in his country. I was equally persistent in my refusal,
telling him that there were many dangers on the road, and I could not
travel unarmed.
On the following morning our people crossed the river: this was a
tedious operation, as our party consisted of about 700 porters and
eighty armed men: Ibrahim had arranged to leave thirty men with Kamrasi
to protect him from the M'was until he should return in the following
season, when he promised to bring him a great variety of presents. By 4
P.M. the whole party had crossed the river with ivory and baggage. We
now brought up the rear, and descended some fine crags of granite to the
water's edge; there were several large canoes in attendance, one of
which we occupied, and, landing on the opposite shore, we climbed up the
steep ascent and looked back upon Unyoro, in which we had passed ten
months of wretchedness. It had poured with rain on the preceding day,
and the natives had constructed a rough camp of grass huts.
On the break of day on the 17th November we started. It would be tedious
to describe the journey, as, although by a different route, it was
through the same country that we had traversed on our arrival from
Shooa. After the first day's march we quitted the forest and entered
upon the great prairies. I was astonished to find after several days'
journey a great difference in the dryness of the climate. In Unyoro we
had left the grass an intense green, the rain having been frequent: here
it was nearly dry, and in many places it had been burnt by the native
hunting parties. From some elevated points in the route I could
distinctly make out the outline of the mountains running from the Albert
lake to the north, on the west bank of the Nile; these would hardly have
been observed by a person who was ignorant of their existence, as the
grass was so high that I had to ascend a white ant-hill to look for
them; they were about sixty miles distant, and my men, who knew them
well, pointed them out to their companions.
The entire party, including women and children, amounted to about 1,000
people. Although they had abundance of flour, there was no meat, and the
grass being high there was no chance of game. On the fourth day only I
saw a herd of about twenty tetel (hartebeest) in an open space that had
been recently burnt. We were both riding upon oxen that I had purchased
of Ibrahim, and we were about a mile ahead of the flag in the hope of
getting a shot; dismounting from my animal, I stalked the game down a
ravine, but upon reaching the point that I had resolved upon for the
shot, I found the herd had moved their position to about 250 paces from
me. They were all looking at me, as they had been disturbed by the oxen
and the boy Saat in the distance. Dinner depended on the shot. There was
a leafless bush singed by the recent fire; upon a branch of this I took
a rest, but just as I was going to fire they moved off--a clean miss!
--whizz went the bullet over them, but so close to the ears of one that
it shook its head as though stung by a wasp, and capered round and
round; the others stood perfectly still, gazing at the oxen in the
distance. Crack went the left-hand barrel of the little Fletcher 24,
and down went a tetel like a lump of lead, before the satisfactory sound
of the bullet returned from the distance. Off went the herd, leaving a
fine beast kicking on the ground. It was shot through the spine, and
some of the native porters, having witnessed the sport from a great
distance, threw down their loads and came racing towards the meat like a
pack of wolves scenting blood. In a few minutes the prize was divided,
while a good portion was carried by Saat for our own use; the tetel,
weighing about 500 lbs. vanished among the crowd in a few minutes.
On the fifth day's march from the Victoria Nile we arrived at Shooa; the
change was delightful after the wet and dense vegetation of Unyoro: the
country was dry, and the grass low and of fine quality. We took
possession of our camp, that had already been prepared for us in a large
courtyard well cemented with cow-dung and clay, and fenced with a strong
row of palisades. A large tree grew in the centre. Several hits were
erected for interpreters and servants, and a tolerably commodious hut,
the roof overgrown with pumpkins, was arranged for our mansion.
That evening the native women crowded to our camp to welcome my wife
home, and to dance in honour of our return; for which exhibition they
expected a present of a cow.
Much to my satisfaction, I found that my first-rate riding ox that had
been lamed during the previous year by falling into a pitfall, and had
been returned to Shooa, was perfectly recovered; thus I had a good mount
for my journey to Gondokoro.
Some months were passed at Shooa, during which I occupied my time by
rambling about the neighbourhood, ascending the mountain, making
duplicates of my maps, and gathering information, all of which was
simply a corroboration of what I had heard before, excepting from the
East. The Turks had discovered a new country called Lira, about thirty
miles from Shooa; the natives were reported as extremely friendly, and
their country as wonderfully fertile and rich in ivory. Many of the
people were located in the Turks' camp; they were the same type as the
Madi, but wore their hair in a different form: it was woven into a thick
felt, which covered the shoulders, and extended as low upon the back as
the shoulderblade.
They were not particular about wearing false hair, but were happy to
receive subscriptions from any source; in case of death the hair of the
deceased was immediately cut off and shared among his friends to be
added to their felt. When in full dress (the men being naked) this mass
of felt was plastered thickly with a bluish clay, so as to form an even
surface; this was most elaborately worked with the point of a thorn, so
as to resemble the cuttings of a file: white pipe-clay was then arranged
in patterns on the surface, while an ornament made of either an
antelope's or giraffe's sinew was stuck in the extremity and turned up
for about a foot in length. This when dry was as stiff as horn, and the
tip was ornamented with a tuft of fur--the tip of a leopard's tail
being highly prized.
I am not aware that any Lord Chancellor of England or any member of the
English bar has ever penetrated to Central Africa, therefore the origin
of the fashion and the similarity in the wigs is most extraordinary; a
well-blacked barrister in full wig and nothing else would thoroughly
impersonate a native of Lira. The tribe of Lira was governed by a chief;
but he had no more real authority than any of the petty chiefs who ruled
the various portions of the Madi country. Throughout the tribes
excepting the kingdom of Unyoro, the chiefs had very little actual
power, and so uncertain was their tenure of office that the rule seldom
remained two generations in one family. On the death of the father, the
numerous sons generally quarrelled for his property and for the right of
succession, ending in open war, and in dividing the flocks and herds,
each settling in a separate district and becoming a petty chief; thus
there was no union throughout the country, and consequently great
weakness. The people of Lira were fighting with their friends the
Langgos--those of Shooa with the natives of Fatiko; nor were there two
neighbouring tribes that were at peace. It was natural that such
unprincipled parties as the Khartoum traders should turn this general
discord to their own advantage; thus within the ten months that I had
been absent from Shooa a great change had taken place in the
neighbourhood. The rival parties of Koorshid and Debono, under their
respective leaders, Ibrahim and Mahommed Wat-el-Mek, had leagued
themselves with contending tribes, and the utter ruin of the country was
the consequence. For many miles' circuit from Shooa, the blackened ruins
of villages and deserted fields bore witness to the devastation
committed; cattle that were formerly in thousands, had been driven off,
and the beautiful district that had once been most fertile was reduced
to a wilderness. By these wholesale acts of robbery and destruction the
Turks had damaged their own interests, as the greater number of the
natives had fled to other countries; thus it was most difficult to
obtain porters to convey the ivory to Gondokoro. The people of the
country had been so spoiled by the payment in cows instead of beads for
the most trifling services, that they now refused to serve as porters to
Gondokoro under a payment of four cows each; thus, as 1,000 men were
required, 4,000 cows were necessary as payment. Accordingly razzia must
be made.
Upon several expeditions, the Turks realized about 2,000 cows; the
natives had become alert, and had driven off their herds to inaccessible
mountains. Debono's people at their camp, about twenty-five miles
distant, were even in a worse position than Ibrahim; they had so
exasperated the natives by their brutal conduct, that tribes formerly
hostile to each other now coalesced and combined to thwart the Turks by
declining to act as porters; thus their supply of ivory could not be
transported to Gondokoro. This led to extra violence on the part of the
Turks, until at last the chief of Faloro (Werdella) declared open war,
and suddenly driving off the Turks' cattle, he retired to the mountains,
from whence he sent an impertinent message inviting Mahommed to try to
rescue them.
This act of insolence united the rival trading parties against Werdella:
those of Ibrahim and Mahommed agreed to join in an attack upon his
village. They started with a force of about 300 armed men, and arriving
at the foot of the mountains at about 4 A.M. they divided their force
into two parties of 150 men each, and ascended the rocky hill upon two
sides, intending to surprise the village on one side, while the natives
and their herds would be intercepted in their flight upon the other.
The chief, Werdella, was well experienced in the affairs of the Turks,
as he had been for two or three years engaged with them in many razzias
upon the adjoining tribes--he had learnt to shoot while acting as
their ally, and having received as presents two muskets, and two brace
of pistols from Debono's nephew Amabile, he thought it advisable to
supply himself with ammunition; he had therefore employed his people to
steal a box of 500 cart ridges and a parcel containing 10,000 percussion
caps from Mahommed's camp. Werdella was a remarkably plucky fellow; and
thus strengthened by powder and ball, and knowing the character of the
Turks, he resolved to fight.
Hardly had the Turks' party of 150 men advanced half way up the mountain
path in their stealthy manner of attempting a surprise, when they were
assailed by a shower of arrows, and the leader who carried the flag fell
dead at the report of a musket fired from behind a rock. Startled at
this unexpected attack, the Turks' party recoiled, leaving their flag
upon the ground by the dead standard-bearer. Before they had time to
recover from their first panic, another shot was fired from the same
shelter at a distance of about thirty paces, and the brains of one of
the Turks' party were splattered over his comrades, as the ball took the
top of his head completely off. Three Bagara Arabs, first-rate elephant
hunters, who were with the Turks, now rushed forward and saved the flag
and a box of ammunition that the porter had thrown down in his flight.
These Arabs, whose courage was of a different class to that of the
traders' party, endeavoured to rally the panic-stricken Turks, but just
as they were feebly and irresolutely advancing, another shot rang from
the same fatal rock, and a man who carried a box of cartridges fell
dead. This was far too hot for the traders' people, who usually had it
all their own way, being alone possessed of firearms. A disgraceful
flight took place, but Werdella was again too much for them. On their
arrival at the bottom of the hill, they ran round the base to join the
other division of their party; this effected, they were consulting
together as to retreat or advance, when close above their heads from an
overhanging rock another shot was fired, and a man dropped, shot through
the chest. The head of Werdella was distinctly seen grinning in triumph;
--the whole party fired at him! "He's down!" was shouted, as the head
disappeared;--a puff of smoke from the rock, and a shriek from one of
the Turks at the sound of another musket shot from the same spot,
settled the question; a man fell mortally wounded. Four men were shot
dead, and one was brought home by the crestfallen party to die in two or
three days; five shots had been fired, and five killed, by one native
armed with two guns against 300 men. "Bravo, Werdella!" I exclaimed, as
the beaten party returned to camp and Ibrahim described the fight. He
deserved the Victoria Cross. This defeat completely cowed the cowardly
Turks; nor would any persuasions on the part of Ibrahim induce them to
make another razzia within the territory of the redoubted chief,
Werdella.
During the absence of the traders' party upon various expeditions, about
fifty men were left in their camp as headquarters. Nothing could exceed
the brutality of the people; they had erected stills, and produced a
powerful corn spirit from the native merissa; their entire time was
passed in gambling, drinking, and fighting, both by night and day. The
natives were ill-treated, their female slaves and children brutally
ill-used, and the entire camp was a mere slice from the infernal
regions. My portion of the camp being a secluded courtyard, we were
fortunately independent.
On one occasion a razzia had been made; and although unsuccessful in
cattle, it had been productive in slaves. Among the captives was a
pretty young girl of about fifteen; she had been sold by auction in the
camp, as usual, the day after the return from the razzia, and had fallen
to the lot of one of the men. Some days after her capture, a native from
the village that had been plundered confidently arrived at the camp with
the intention of offering ivory for her ransom. Hardly had he entered
the gateway, when the girl, who was sitting at the door of her owner's
hut, caught sight of him, and springing to her feet, she ran as fast as
her chained ankles would allow her, and threw herself in his arms,
exclaiming, "My father!" It was her father, who had thus risked his life
in the enemy's camp to ransom his child.
The men who were witnesses to this scene immediately rushed upon the
unfortunate man, tore him from his daughter, and bound him tightly with
cords.
While this was enacting, I happened to be in my hut; thus I was not an
eye-witness. About an hour later, I called some of my men to assist me
in cleaning some rifles. Hardly had we commenced, when three shots were
fired within a hundred paces of my hut. My men exclaimed, "They have
shot the Abid (native)!" "What native?" I inquired. They then related
the story I have just described. Brutal as these bloodthirsty villains
were, I could hardly believe in so cold-blooded a murder. I immediately
sent my people and the boy Saat to verify it; they returned with the
report that the wretched father was sitting on the ground, bound to a
tree, dead; shot by three balls.
I must do Ibrahim the justice to explain that he was not in the camp;
had he been present, this murder would not have been committed, as he
scrupulously avoided any such acts in my vicinity. A few days later, a
girl about sixteen, and her mother, who were slaves, were missing; they
had escaped. The hue and cry was at once raised. Ibrahimawa, the
"Sinbad" of Bornu, who had himself been a slave, was the most
indefatigable slave-hunter. He and a party at once started upon the
tracks of the fugitives. They did not return until the following day;
but where was the runaway who could escape from so true a bloodhound?
The young girl and her mother were led into camp tied together by the
neck, and were immediately condemned to be hanged. I happened to be
present, as, knowing the whole affair, I had been anxiously awaiting the
result. I took this opportunity of explaining to the Turks that I would
use any force to prevent such an act, and that I would report the names
of all those to the Egyptian authorities who should commit any murder
that I could prove; neither would I permit the two captives to be
flogged--they were accordingly pardoned. [It will be observed that at
this period of the expedition I had acquired an extraordinary influence
over the people, that enabled me to exert an authority which saved the
lives of many unfortunate creatures who would otherwise have been
victims.]
There was among the slaves a woman who had been captured in the attack
upon Fowooka. This woman I have already mentioned as having a very
beautiful boy, who at the time of the capture was a little more than a
year old.
So determined was her character, that she had run away five times with
her child, but on every occasion she had been recaptured, after having
suffered much by hunger and thirst in endeavouring to find her way back
to Unyoro through the uninhabited wilderness between Shooa and Karuma.
On the last occasion of her capture, the Turks had decided upon her
being incorrigible, therefore she had received 144 blows with the
coorbatch (hippopotamus whip), and had been sold separately from her
child to the party belonging to Mahommed Wat-el-Mek. Little Abbai had
always been a great pet of Mrs. Baker's, and the unfortunate child being
now motherless, he was naturally adopted, and led a most happy life.
Although much under two years old, he was quite equal in precocity to a
European child of three; in form and strength he was a young Hercules,
and, although so young, he would frequently follow me out shooting for
two or three miles, and return home with a guinea-fowl hanging over his
shoulder, or his hands full of pigeons. Abbai became very civilized; he
was taught to make a Turkish "salaam" upon receiving a present, and to
wash his hands both before and after his meals. He had the greatest
objection to eat alone, and he generally invited three or four friends
of about his own age to dine with him; on such occasions, a large wooden
bowl, about twenty inches in diameter, was filled with soup and
porridge, around which steaming dish the young party sat, happier in
their slavery than kings in power. There were two lovely girls of three
and eight years of age that belonged to Ibrahim; these were not black,
but of the same dark brown tint as Kamrasi and many of the Unyoro
people. Their mother was also there, and their history being most
pitiable, they were always allowed free access to our hut and the dinner
bowl. These two girls were the daughters of Owine, one of the great
chiefs who were allied with Fowooka against Kamrasi. After the defeat of
Fowooka, Owine and many of his people with their families quitted the
country, and forming an alliance with Mahommed Wat-el-Mek, they settled
in the neighbourhood of his camp at Faloro, and built a village. For
some time they were on the best terms, but some cattle of the Turks
being missed, suspicion fell upon the new settlers. The men of
Mahommed's party desired that they might be expelled, and Mahommed, in a
fit of drunken fury, at once ordered them to be MASSACRED. His men,
eager for murder and plunder, immediately started upon their bloody
errand, and surrounding the unsuspecting colony, they fired the huts and
killed EVERY MAN, including the chief, Owine; capturing the women and
children as slaves. Ibrahim had received the mother and two girls as
presents from Mahommed Wat-el-Mek. As the two rival companies had been
forced to fraternize, owing to the now generally hostile attitude of the
surrounding tribes, the leaders had become wonderfully polite,
exchanging presents, getting drunk together upon raw spirits, and
behaving in a brotherly manner--according to their ideas of
fraternity. There was a peculiar charm in the association with children
in this land of hardened hearts and savage natures: there is a time in
the life of the most savage animal when infancy is free from the fierce
instincts of race; even the lion's whelp will fondle the hand that it
would tear in riper years: thus, separated in this land of horrors from
all civilization, and forced by hard necessity into the vicinity of all
that was brutal and disgusting, it was an indescribable relief to be
surrounded by those who were yet innocent, and who clung in their
forsaken state to those who looked upon them with pity. We had now six
little dependents, none of whom could ever belong to us, as they were
all slaves, but who were well looked after by my wife; fed, amused, and
kept clean. The boy Abbai was the greatest favourite, as, having neither
father nor mother, he claimed the greatest care: he was well washed
every morning, and then to his great delight smeared all over from head
to toes with red ochre and grease, with a cock's feather stuck in his
woolly pate. He was then a most charming pet savage, and his toilette
completed, he invariably sat next to his mistress, drinking a
gourd-shell of hot milk, while I smoked my early morning pipe beneath
the tree. I made bows and arrows for my boys, and taught them to shoot
at a mark, a large pumpkin being carved into a man's head to excite
their aim. Thus the days were passed until the evening; at that time a
large fire was lighted to create a blaze, drums were collected, and
after dinner a grand dance was kept up by the children, until the young
Abbai ended regularly by creeping under my wife's chair, and falling
sound asleep: from this protected spot he was carried to his mat,
wrapped up in a piece of old flannel (the best cloth we had), in which
he slept till morning. Poor little Abbai! I often wonder what will be
his fate, and whether in his dreams he recalls the few months of
happiness that brightened his earliest days of slavery.
Although we were in good health in Shooa, many of the men were ill,
suffering generally from headache; also from ulcerated legs;--the
latter was a peculiar disease, as the ulcer generally commenced upon the
ankle bone and extended to such a degree that the patient was rendered
incapable of walking. The treatment for headache among all the savage
tribes was a simple cauterization of the forehead in spots burnt with a
hot iron close to the roots of the hair. The natives declared that the
water was unwholesome from the small stream at the foot of the hill and
that all those who drank from the well were in good health. I went down
to examine the spring, which I found beautifully clear, while the
appearance of the stream was quite sufficient to explain the opposite
quality. As I was walking quietly along the bank, I saw a bright ray of
light in the grass upon the opposite side; in another moment I perceived
the head of a crocodile which was concealed in the grass, the brightness
of the sun's reflection upon the eye having attracted my attention. A
shot with the little 24 rifle struck just above the eye and killed it;
--it was a female, from which we extracted several large eggs, all with
hard shells.
The shooting that I had while at Shooa was confined to antelopes; of
these there was no variety excepting waterbuck and hartebeest. Whenever
I shot an animal the Shooa natives would invariably cut its throat, and
drink the hot blood as it gushed from the artery. In this neighbourhood
there was a great scarcity of game the natives of Lira described their
country as teeming with elephants and rhinoceros; a fine horn of the
latter they brought with them to Shooa. There is only one variety of
rhinoceros that I have met with in the portions of Africa that I have
visited: this is the two-horned, a very exact sketch of which I made of
the head of one that I cut off after I had shot it. This two-horned
black rhinoceros is extremely vicious. I have remarked that they almost
invariably charge any enemy that they smell, but do not see; they
generally retreat if they observe the object before obtaining the wind.
In my rambles in search of game, I found two varieties of cotton growing
indigenous to the country: one with a yellow blossom was so short in the
staple as to be worthless, but the other (a red blossom) produced a fine
quality that was detached with extreme ease from the seeds. A sample of
this variety I brought to England, and deposited the seed at the Royal
Botanical Gardens at Kew. A large quantity was reported to be grown at
Lira, some of which was brought me by the chief; this was the inferior
kind. I sketched the old chief of Lira, who when in full dress wore a
curious ornament of cowrie shells upon his felt wig that gave him a most
comical appearance, as he looked like the caricature of an English
judge. The Turks had extended their excursions in their search for
ivory, and they returned from an expedition sixty miles east of Shooa,
bringing with them two donkeys that they had obtained from the natives.
This was an interesting event, as for nearly two years I had heard from
the natives of Latooka, and from those of Unyoro, that donkeys existed
in a country to the east. These animals were the same in appearance as
those of the Soudan; the natives never rode, but simply used them to
transport wood from the forest to their villages; the people were
reported as the same in language and appearance as the Lira tribe.
CHAPTER XVII
THE NATIVES IN MOURNING.
The hour of deliverance from our long sojourn in Central Africa was at
hand; it was the month of February, and the boats would be at Gondokoro.
The Turks had packed their ivory; the large tusks were fastened to poles
to be carried by two men, and the camp was a perfect mass of this
valuable material. I counted 609 loads of upwards of 50 lbs. each;
thirty-one loads were lying at an outstation: therefore the total
results of the ivory campaign during the last twelve months were about
32,000 lbs., equal to about 9,630 pounds when delivered in Egypt. This
was a perfect fortune for Koorshid.
We were ready to start. My baggage was so unimportant that I was
prepared to forsake everything, and to march straight for Gondokoro
independently with my own men; but this the Turks assured me was
impracticable, as the country was so hostile in advance that we must of
necessity have some fighting on the road; the Bari tribe would dispute
our right to pass through their territory.
The porters were all engaged to transport the ivory, but I observed that
the greater number were in mourning for either lost friends or cattle,
having ropes twisted round their necks and waists, as marks of sorrow.
About 800 men received payment of cattle in advance; the next day they
had all absconded with their cows, having departed during the night.
This was a planned affair to "spoil the Egyptians:" a combination had
been entered into some months before by the Madi and Shooa tribes, to
receive payment and to abscond, but to leave the Turks helpless to
remove their stock of ivory. The people of Mahommed Wat-el-Mek were in a
similar dilemma; not a tusk could be delivered at Gondokoro.